Better Together - Harm's POV
by Annarita
Summary: Companion piece to "Better Together". This one is all from Harm's POV. Same story, same dialogue, just some different thoughts.
1. Chapter 1

**Better Together – Harm's POV**

Disclaimer: One again, not mine.  
All typos are mine and mine alone.

Summary: Companion piece to "Better Together". This one is all from Harm's POV. Lydia suggested that I write the same exact story as "Better Together" but tell it from Harm's POV, and I decided it wouldn't hurt to try. Thanks for the suggestion, Lydia!

* * *

"I've been pushing you away," she says to me. She sounds so sad and I fight the urge to wrap her in my arms – no matter what happens, I will always want to protect her … take her pain away.

"Yeah, you have," I try to remain calm and not sound bitter or resentful.

She sighs, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I whisper. "You had to, uh, figure some things out. I understand." I only think about it for a nanosecond before I learn forward and take her hand in mine. "Look, Mac," I start as I trace my thumb along her hand. "Nothing's changed. I'm still here. Let's just enjoy the good news – be happy. You're alive," I try to pour as much emotion into my words as I can, hoping that she understands what I am trying to say.

"You know what makes that news better? We both are," she squeezes my hand.

Her words melt any remnants of our past "icy encounters" of the last year or so. Maybe there is hope for an "us" after all.

I twist yet again in the chair and try to find a suitable position. It might be easier if I am willing to let go of her hand, but I'm not going to. I haven't been able to sleep; instead, I keep a vigil over Mac and try to memorize every single thing about her.

I can't believe how close I came to losing everything tonight.

My whole entire world stopped when they came to tell my mom about my dad's plane going down on Christmas Eve, and when the paramedic called and told me Mac had been in an accident, I realized my whole entire world stopped again. I felt the exact same feelings of dread, and fear – the not knowing what to expect when I arrived at the hospital…it terrified me.

She's starting to stir, and I'm not sure if she is having a nightmare or if she is in pain. I'm just about to wake her when she gasps and opens her eyes. Her chocolate brown eyes are staring at me and she seems a bit disoriented.

"Are you okay, Mac? What's wrong? Should I get a doctor? Are you in pain?" There are so many questions going through my mind that I keep asking them before I even give her a chance to respond. Instead of letting go of her hand, I hold on just a bit tighter.

"No," her voice is hoarse when she answers, and I make a mental note to ask the next nurse that comes in for ice chips. "I'm okay; I just, uh, didn't realize you were here."

"Hey," I whisper. "I told you last night that nothing changed. I'm still here and I promised you I was staying here all night with you."

"Wait…you were really here last night?"

"Of course I was. Mac, are you sure you are alright? You're scaring me."

"I'm okay. I just thought I dreamt that conversation or something. I've been so distant with you lately that I didn't think it possibly could have happened."

There's so much I want to tell her, but now is not the time. Hell, I can't even come up with the words right now either. "We have a lot to talk about, and we will," I assure her. "But right now, just focus on resting. You'll probably be released in a couple hours and we talk then. Okay?"

"Okay," she agrees sleepily as she closes her eyes.

I continue to draw lazy circles with my thumb, over her hand, hoping it will help lull her to sleep. I have a funny feeling that she hasn't been sleeping well lately and she needs as much rest as she can get.

Once I am sure she is finally asleep again, I, too, finally allow myself to close my eyes for sleep to come to me, too.

I wake up sometime later; it's close to 0830 now. The doctor comes to tell us that if everything is okay, he'd be releasing Mac in the next half hour or so. That's music to my ears! I take it as my cue to step out of the room while he examines her, so I tear myself away from her room long enough to go to the parking lot and retrieve a few things from the car.

I open the trunk and retrieve two things. First, a bouquet of roses – I bought them yesterday on my lunch break as something to go along with Mac's Christmas gift. I'm actually surprised they held up all night without being put into water. The second item is Mac's Christmas gift. I'm a little nervous to give it to her…when I saw it, she was the first person I thought of, but I'm just afraid that she might think it's too personal and drop kick my six to another time zone.

When I enter her room again, I see her propped up on the bed. She seems to be looking more rested, so that's a plus.

She raises an eyebrow when she sees me return, and I watch her wince before she speaks, "Where'd you manage to find all that in a hospital on Christmas morning?"

"Actually," I admit sheepishly, I'm almost afraid to tell her this. "I bought the flowers on my lunch break yesterday and I had your gift for a long time. I was planning on bringing them to you after the trip to the Wall, and I figured maybe we could spend Christmas Eve together. But, since you had to go and smash your car last night," insert a poor attempt to lighten the mood, "It looks like you're going to be stuck with me today instead."

I place the roses on the table beside her and then hand her the gift box.

"I didn't have time to go back to your place and grab you a change of clothes, so I thought maybe you'd want to open this now instead of later."

She seems intrigued as she starts to open the box. "I love them!" She exclaims as she pulls out the pair of fleece Christmas pajamas from the box. They are Marine green in color with little Christmas trees and reindeer on them.

Now, I am super relieved. "Now, I know they aren't exactly like the cowboy pair I caught you in a few years ago, but still. They were just as cute and they made me think of you as soon as I saw them."

I swear her eyes are sparkling when she speaks next – these pajamas were a huge success. "Help me up, Sailor, so I can go change."

"Yes, ma'am," I oblige happily as I take her hands and lift her as gently as I can. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she assures me as she goes to the bathroom to change.

"Uh, Harm?" I hear her call out. She hasn't even been in there for a full minutes yet, and I'm instantly worried.

"What is it, Mac?" I ask quickly – maybe even a bit too quickly – my hand already on the doorknob.

"I need some help…"

"Is it okay to open the door?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Slowly, timidly, I open the door. "What's wrong?"

"I can't reach to untie the strings behind my neck. It hurts too much."

I give a sigh of relief. "I can certainly help with that."

I loosen the tie and without meaning, too, my fingers brush against her skin. I swear I hear her sigh happily, and I can't seem to bring myself to pull away from her just yet. I love being able to touch her like this. It just feels so right. Before I know it, I am using both my hands to massage the tense muscles around her neck.

"Does this hurt?" I ask.

"No," she moans and for a split second I am afraid I hurt her. Then I realize it wasn't an in pain kind of moan. . Way to go, Hammer!

"It's great."

I smirk to myself – thrilled that she seems to be enjoying this type of contact. I lose track of how long we stand here like this – but I'm sure she would be able to tell you the exact second. Finally, I force myself to stop so she can finish changing and we could go home.

 _Home._

I stop myself and mentally remind myself that I have to take _Mac_ to her _home._ We do not share a home.

"Oh, does it have to end?" she asks, and I'm not sure if she is teasing me or being serious.

Confused, I offer the first response to mind. "I see more of those in your future, Mac."

Maybe I'm just being hopeful that we're on the same wavelength.

Then, I leave the bathroom so she can finish changing and we can leave.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Better Together – Chapter 2**

* * *

 _You're unspoken desire is the road not taken._

That stupid fortune from nearly a year ago is the only thing on my mind as I drive Mac back to her apartment. It has me so preoccupied that I think Mac and I only exchanged a handful of sentences on the drive here.

It's time for me to taken the road not taken. Mac and I need to have a discussion, and so help me, it's going to be soon. We never fully got back on solid ground after Paraguay and the whole Webb not really being dead encounter, but for some odd reason, we been spiraling away from each other even more since the day we took Little AJ to the pumpkin patch.

I loved spending the day with AJ and Mac. AJ was having so much fun and I thought Mac was having a pretty good time, too, but as soon as I suggested we do something together after we dropped AJ off, and she told me no. She said she'd rather be alone, and I thought that meant for the night, but ever since that day, in general, she's been pushing me away even more and I am not sure why.

Once we are inside her apartment, I encourage her to take a shower and relax and assure her that I'll make us something light to eat for lunch after starting a fire in the fireplace.

I open her cupboard to take out some mugs and bowls only to find casserole dishes instead. I frown. There was a time when I knew where _everything_ was in her kitchen, and now it's different and it makes me feel like and outsider…like I don't belong. This little jealous part in me wonders if Webb did it.

As I rummage around her kitchen, I find a few cans of chicken broth and box of pastina in the pantry. I can't help to smile – it's the same meal my mom used to serve me when I was sick as a kid. Considering the lack of groceries in Mac's kitchen, I am surprised that she had enough on hand to make the soup. I make a mental note to go grocery shopping for her soon. I have a feeling she hasn't been sleeping lately, but the not eating properly, too…that has me really concerned.

As I prepare a pan of water to boil, I wonder how Mac and I even got to this place. The problem is, and always has been, that we are never on the same page at the same time. There's always this awkward push and pull where we can't seem to find an appropriate balance between a romantic relationship and platonic friendship – or, more accurately, find the right time to make the change to something more.

There was a time when Mac told me that I make simple things complicated, and she's right.

That's the thing about Mac – she calls me out on my crap. Mac challenges me in ways no other woman possibly can. She isn't afraid to go toe to toe in argument, she stands her ground, and she doesn't let herself be bullied around – in or out of the courtroom. She's my equal and I guess I find that refreshing and exciting – not to mention incredibly attractive.

I hear the water shut off and a short while after that I can sense her presence in the kitchen before I even turn around to face her. "Are those Navy issued pajamas?" She asks with a small smile as she sits down at the barstool.

Ah, so I'm not the only one who enjoys catching my partner in pajamas.

I grin as I finish ladling soup into a bowl before sliding it across to her. "Looks like we're having a pajama party today," I tease. "Yours are still cuter."

I walk across the kitchen to pour myself a cup coffee and can feel her watching me as I do so. "You're cute, too," she says before adding on quickly, "You're pajamas."

I can't help but to chuckle as I return to the island with my coffee cup. "Then it looks like I know what to get you for your birthday, Marine."

"Funny, funny." She takes a few bites of soup, but stops when she realizes that I am staring at her. "Did I spill?" She's confused, and glances down to see if there is any food on her pajama top.

"No, no, it's not that."

"Then why are you looking at me that way? What do you see?"

I focus on her eyes. "I still see a desirable woman."

There's a long silence that follows, and I am pretty sure we are both thinking about the first time I said that to her. If only we would have taken that step forward then…but it's time now. It's now or never.

"Look, Mac…"  
"Harm, we…"

We both begin at the same time, and then stop. We're both a little flustered now.

"You first," she encourages softly.

I'm serious and focused as I take a deep breath to gather my thoughts. I know that I am about to argue the most important case of my entire life. "I think we need to talk about us."

Contrary to what she said that night in Paraguay there will always be an "us." We will always be tied to each other in ways you can't even imagine.

"That's what I was going to say," she whispers.

Here we go…

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Better Together – Chapter 3**

* * *

I study her face as I take a long sip of coffee. I'm having a hard time reading her expression and it scares me a little. "We need to establish some "rules of engagement" first," I say as I slide my coffee mug away. Suddenly, I'm more nervous than when I flew CIA missions.

She mimics my actions and slides away her bowl of soup. "Such as?"

"We are completely, one hundred and ten percent honest with each other, we agree to hear each other out, and no matter how ugly it may get we _do not_ walk away from each other until we come up with an appropriate resolution to whatever "this" is," I finish as I gesture to the space between us.

She nods slowly, but doesn't say a word. I can see a mix of emotions flash throughout her eyes, and suddenly I realize she is probably just as nervous as I am. Sensing that, I decide I should swallow my fears, argue my case and start this conversation first.

Don't screw up this time, Rabb.

"I meant what I said before," I begin. "I am tired of looking in on your life as an observer. I want to be a part of your life. I want to share in your happiness and sorrows, I want to eat dinner with you every day, I want to take long weekend drives with you just to get away every once in a while. I want you to be there in the morning when I wake up, and at night when I go to sleep."

"Harm…"

I hold up a hand and shake my head – the universal sign of "I'm not done yet" and she lets me finish which is good because if I lost my momentum now, we'd be backtracking yet again probably.

"I had my world stop once before on Christmas Eve….and when I got that phone call that you were in accident, my world stopped again. Nothing mattered to me besides getting to where you were."

There is an incredibly long silence that follows. She doesn't speak but she just stares at me, her eyes filled with unshed tears. I can tell she is mentally telling herself not to cry, and I fight the urge to reach out and wipe the tears away myself. I refuse to believe that I waited too long…I refuse to believe that there never will be an us…I refuse to believe that she doesn't want the same things I do, but the silence terrifies me.

 _Let me in, Mac. Please._

"How can you say all those things?" She finally asks. Her voice is weak and afraid. She doesn't sound like the litigator I go up against in court. "After all that I did to push you away and keep you at arm's length, how can you still feel like that?"

"Because I know in my heart we are meant to be."

"I can't give you what you want, Harm, what you deserve."

 _A baby_.

I know that what she is talking about – she doesn't even have to elaborate.

"Jesus, Mac, it doesn't matter how it happens…as long as it happens with you."

How many times do I have to say this before she understands?

"You don't have to hang around just because you made a promise and you want to keep it. You're handsome, successful, accomplished; you can still find a woman who can give you the family you deserve. _You_ still have time."

I lean forward and brace myself against the countertop. "The only family that matters to me is the one you and I have together."

She crosses her arms and I instantly remember the time I helped Mattie study for a psychology test about body language.

 _Crossed arms may indicate anxiety which is either driven by a lack of trust in the other person or an internal discomfort and sense of vulnerability_.

I'm trying to determine which reason is the most likely explanation when her voice rattles me from my thoughts.

"You're a noble man, Harmon Rabb," her tone dripping with contempt.

I'm confused as I try to think about this from her point of view. "Do you think I only want to be with you because of our deal, Mac? Because all I want is a baby?" If she thinks that little of me, I can't even begin to describe how hurt that makes me feel and we are at a place much worse than I thought.

She shrugs. "Sometimes…or because maybe I still remind you of Diane."

"I haven't thought of Diane in _years_. I see _you_ when I look at _you_ …definitely not Diane," I assure her quickly.

She ignores my assurance, "Find a woman who can give you a family, Harm."

"Damn it, Mac!" I slam my fist down on the countertop and the spoon falls out of her bowl of soup clangs against the countertop. "Why do you think that you know what is best for me? Why do you think you can dictate how I have a family… who I can love?"

"Because I want you to be sure! I don't want you to have regrets. You say all these things now, but what about ten or fifteen years from now? Can you still feel this way then even if you don't have a family? Can you?" She snaps.

"Yes!" Without a doubt, yes.

"You don't know what it feels like for me!" She yells as she climbs off of the barstool and stands on her feet. She's angry now, and I think this might be a good thing – let's put it all out there… maybe she even needs to get angry about her diagnosis and everything else so that she can finally cope with all the changes in her life recently.

"You don't know what it feels like to have a doctor tell you that you have less than a five percent chance of conceiving a child and having a successful pregnancy. Ever since we made our deal, I looked forward to the day we would have a baby – a little bit of me and a little bit of you! And to be honest, I hoped that we could do things the old fashioned way…that everything would work out and we'd have it all, Harm. We'd have a baby _and_ a family. And then it happened… the world slapped me in the face and reminded me that I don't deserve any of that."

"You're right," I agree. "I do not know what it feels like to have a doctor tell me that. But," I raise my voice slightly and try so hard to keep my anger in line. "I do know what feels is like to give up everything that was important to you to find the woman that you love and bring her home from some botched CIA operation and then and have her tell you that it will NEVER work out. And I'd say it probably hurts just as much!"

We've had our share of ups and downs throughout our partnership, but Paraguay takes the cake. That's for sure. I shouldn't have walked away so easily, but I didn't know what else to do. I've been through my share of PTSD throughout my career and I knew she was going through a lot. I just assumed it was the PTSD talking, that we'd come home, she'd get the help she needed to deal with happened, and we could try again. What I was not expecting was for her to cozy up with Webb.

"Then why didn't you fight me about it?!"

"Because _I_ can't make _your_ decisions for _you._ And I know that you went through a lot down there…whether or not you wanted to talk about it. I'm no stranger to PTSD…I know what it's like, believe me I do. But damn it, Mac, _this_ is _not_ like you – to just give up like this! I may have said "not yet" in Australia, but you said "never." You put the brakes on us. "

"That makes you sound like a hypocrite!" she fires back.

"Maybe it does! But loves doesn't make sense, Mac. It's confusing and complicated and nothing is black and white…especially with us! But telling me never and then expecting me to fight you about it when I saw how you were with Webb makes you a hypocrite, too. Either way it was walking on eggshells with you. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn't. There are a lot of things I would do differently. I knew you were under a lot of stress and I just figured that we would have any major life discussions once you came to terms with it. Maybe…I should have helped you more…been a better friend to you, been more understanding and supportive of what you were going through instead of being a jealous jerk every time I thought of you being with Webb."

For being a pretty decent litigator in the courtroom, I never have been able to be as successful with words in my personal life – especially when it involved Mac. In my personal life, I tend to lead more with actions not words. I guess, though, actions don't mean as much if they aren't accompanied by the words. Mac probably needed to hear the words.

"Give up on what?" She asks suddenly. "What do you think I am giving up on?"

"Well, yourself, for starters," I answer, maybe a little more hostile than I should have. "Me, being happy, enjoying life. All of it! Let's not fight _each other_ …let's fight for all of this _together._ "

When she doesn't say anything, I reach for her hand – half expecting her to pull away. Instead of pulling away, she is perfectly still. With her hand still in mine, I walk around the island and stand directly in front of her.

"For the record, I do love you, Mac. I want that to perfectly clear." I kiss the back of her hand. The words roll off my tongue so easily that I regret not saying them sooner. "Don't sell yourself short. You deserve to be happy. I want to be the person who can make you happy...if you'll let me. And I guess it is a good time to admit something else to you…" I'm almost embarrassed to tell her this.

"What?"

"The deal was never about just having a baby together, you understand that, right? The deal was more because…I didn't want to lose you – ever. So, with my logic, if we had a child to raise together, I would always be tied to you…and I know, from a legal perspective, the deal was… flawed…and would have been messy had we ended up with other people and still shared a child or transferred out of DC, but I always wanted to end up with _you_. Always. So I guess I didn't really think it through that much, and…"

Before I know it, she is practically jumping into my arms. After the accident, I'm not sure how she can move that quickly and can only imagine the amount of physical pain it caused her right now, but she doesn't seem to care. I catch her in my arms and lean against the countertop with her in my embrace.

"I do love you, too, Harm. So much. So, so much." She places light kisses all over my face. "I want an eternity with you," I feel her warm tears against my skin as she continues to assault my face with the most amazing kisses.

At some point, the tears turn into sobs and I make soothing motions along her back. "Everything is okay," I whisper against her hair. "As long as we are together, everything will be okay."

"I'm sorry…that I … pushed you away…that I was stubborn and mean," She says between sobs. "I'm sorry that I hurt you…I'm ready to let you in…to share a life with you." She wraps her arms even tighter around my neck and I want to stay like this forever. "Whatever happens, wherever life takes us, I can get through it as long as it is with you. Together."

I pull away just enough to look into her eyes. She smiles softly at me and I can see any doubts she has about "us" slowly disappearing. We did it… finally we are on the same page at the same time.

"Harm?" she questions softly when I don't say anything.

"I want to kiss you, but I don't want to hurt you." I gently run a finger along the bruise on her face.

"I'd be more hurt if you _didn't_ kiss me."

I grin and lean forward to kiss her. It's gentle and slow, but filled with passion and love and promise.

I can't wait for what is yet come.

* * *

Epilogue to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Better Together – Epilogue**

* * *

"Harm! Will you stop?" Mac scolds me as she swats my hand away from the tray of sugar cookies on the counter. "Those are for the kids! And they are for after dinner. It's only 0623, Harm. Who would have thought _you'd_ be eating _sugar cookies_ at this hour? Of all the people." She mutters.

She picks up the tray and abruptly turns on her heel to place the cookies in the cupboard above the stove.

I chuckle as I take bite of the cookie I managed to snatch. "I can't help it, Mac. I'm beginning to share in your eating habits. Besides, who would have thought _you'd_ be this strict about eating cookies anyways?"

"Harmon Rabb, married life as made _you_ a pushover!"

"It has not!" I defend myself. "It has just brought out certain…characteristics…that were there all along…they just didn't come to the surface until married life. Therefore, I can't possibly be considered a pushover."

Wait…that doesn't make any sense… maybe she didn't notice.

No such luck, she noticed and she's trying not to laugh. "If you say so, Sailor." Her eyes zero in on the smear of icing on the corner of my mouth and without hesitation, she leans forward to kiss it away. "Mmm. Delicious."

"Me or the icing?" I wonder aloud with an eyebrow arched.

"The icing," she smiles, her eyes sparkling.

Before I can do anything else – like kiss her back the proper way - I hear the pitter-patter of little feet running down the stairs.

"No running inside!" Mac calls, and all three of them quickly come to attention in front of her standing from tallest to shortest.

"Sorry!" they apologize in unison.

"We just wanted to see if Santa found us here."

"Oh, I think he sure did," I speak up. "Why don't you take a look and see, huh?"

There's a chorus of oohs and aahs.

"Can we open them now? Please, oh, please, oh please?"

I'm almost about to tell them they can open _one_ present each right now from their stockings, but Mac speaks first.

"Not yet, we have to wait for your parents to wake up so they can watch you open them, too."

"Okay, Grandma. I _guess_ we can wait."

I raise an eyebrow at the boy as a warning. Mac may think I'm a pushover, especially with our grandkids, but Christmas or not, they have to remember to be respectful. My grandson and I will be having a little chat about respect and manners this afternoon.

"Well, Grandpa got up extra early today to make his famous French toast for you guys, so why don't we eat breakfast? I'm sure your parents will be up by the time we are done eating."

Jonah and Colin sit at the kitchen table and wait for me to bring them their breakfast. They are eight year old fraternal twins who have their grandmother's Marine appetite. I swear they inhale the food as soon as I put the plate in front of them. All I have to say is I'm glad I don't have to pay their parents' grocery bill…especially when they reach their teen years.

Mac is in her element as I watch her put their three year old cousin, Emma, in the booster seat at the kitchen table. She makes silly faces and blows raspberries on Emma's face and both grandmother and granddaughter laugh in delight.

This is the thirtieth Christmas Mac and I have celebrated together – as an "us." There was a time – a very long time – that I hated Christmas and everything about it. It was horrible when I was a kid and my dad was MIA, but once I got closure about his fate, I didn't dread Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as much. That night of Mac' car accident, could have given me another reason to hate Christmas, but luckily she survived and we were given a second chance. I'm so glad we figured things out that day.

We married a soon after. Some people thought we were rushing into things, but most people understood that Mac and I had a nine year history. Harriet even told us that we had "been dating for years without calling it dating." We made a lot of sacrifices and compromises for both of us to remain in the military until we reached our twenty years, but it was worth it. After Mac retired, we moved to Pennsylvania to take care of Gram's farm. She had left it to me when she died, and it had sat neglected for far too long. We had a lot of updating to do, but I enjoyed every minute of it. Our kids were old enough to help at the time, and they had such a thrill in contributing to make the house our own. It made the move easier for them. I never would have thought I'd retire and move out to the country, but at least the farm isn't too far from Pittsburgh and we can go to the city as often as we like. I miss the excitement of military law and flying Tomcats, but my life a prosecutor does fill the void a bit. Mac ended up dividing her time between the kids, practicing family law part time, and teaching law classes in Pittsburgh.

That thing about a female Marine being like the energizer bunny…? Guess it holds true after they retire. Once a Marine, always a Marine.

Neither one of our children seemed to share in my passion for flying, or followed our footsteps by joining the military or becoming lawyers, and that's okay –even if the lack of interest in _Sarah_ and aviation did disappoint me some tiny bit (it was how I bonded with my father and I thought I would do the same with my kids – but we found other ways). That's what every parent wants on some level or another – they want their children to be independent and forge their own path in life. Our daughter became a pediatrician and our son became a forensic accountant.

For the record, our kids, who also happen to be twins, don't have my looks and Mac's brains or vice versa. Right around the time of our first anniversary, Mac had to have a hysterectomy. It wasn't the ideal way to celebrate one year of marriage, but we got through it. We went through all the steps and began the process to adopt. A social worker matched us with a set of six-year old twins named Allison and Jeffery. They had been born to a crack addicted mother and tested positive for the drug in their system when they were born. As a result, they bounced from foster home to foster home for the first six years of their lives. At first, no one wanted them because they were "crack babies" and by the time they were old enough to show they had no long term health impairments from the drug, no one wanted them because they were "too old."

As soon as we met them, we knew they were destined to be our children - that we could love them and give them the family they deserved. Everything just clicked. They belonged with us.

My trip down memory lane ends when Allison and her husband and Jeffery and his wife come into the kitchen. I look over at Mac notice her mouth "I love you," followed by a wink.

I smile back – my typical "flyboy grin" – and move to stand behind her. "I love you, too," I whisper against her ear with a gentle squeeze to her shoulders.

She squeezes my hand. "We did well together."

"That we did, Mac. That we did," I agree.

Mac and I did a lot of growing. We learned to let go of things that didn't matter anymore, and how to hold on to the things that are important.

We are better together – it proved true when we were partners all those years ago at JAG and it also proved true in life.

I wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

End.


End file.
